Halo: Run for Your Money
by Mike-045
Summary: A Fire Team is sent on a high-risk strike mission to pierce the Ark's defenses. Piece of cake...for Orbital Drop Shock Troopers.
1. Chapter 1

Hey, sorry for this little departure from Halo: Over the River and Through the Woods (for those of you following it). This is just something I've been working on in my spare time in school, the first chapter of two.  
Hopefully it won't look too amateurish, lol...

* * *

"Boom." Or maybe it was "bang." Regardless, Corporal Steve Anthers was barely able to take cover from the Spike Grenade's impalement and subsequent detonation. Darting left, he brought up his BR55-c, and fired a nine-round burst into the Brute responsible. The beast bellowed – in either pain or rage, he couldn't really tell – and fired three twelve-inch spikes from its suitably named Spike Rifle – "Spiker," for short. One shot clear through Anthers' shin, and he fell to a knee.

However, before it could advance, a resounding "crack" split the air…and the Brute's cranium. The sheer force of the round blown the monster's head (not exactly cleanly) off of its' neck. Its nine-and-a-half, now nine-foot-even, frame was splayed out on the ground spread-eagled.

A few agonizing moments later, the rest of Anthers' fire team appeared. Like him, they were ODST's – Orbital Drop Shock Troopers – armored in a matte-black suit with a vaguely T-shaped light blue visor. Their medic, Private First Class Louis Wu, walked over and knelt next to Anthers' prone form. Smiling behind his visor, the medic questioned, "I guess you'll want a Purple Heart now, eh?" Anthers grunted, and then replied, "No, but I'd like to walk again. It'd sure be nice." Wu laughed, but quickly sobered.

As Wu opened his med kit, Anthers reviewed the situation. He and three others had dropped in from a high-altitude Pelican. They were under orders to clear the LZ so that said Pelican could drop them off a 'Hog. So far they'd been mildly successful – only three Brutes and a dozen or so Grunts had been encountered, and the only real injury was the hole in Anthers' leg.

Their Heavy Weapons Specialist, Private Robert Lawrence, walked over to the Brute's corpse. He muttered something over the COM, and hefted the Spiker. At first he stumbled from its bulk, and an audible grunt echoed throughout the still air. He then shifted his weight and clumsily attached it to the magnetic hotspot on his left thigh. He bowed down again, and came up with a pair of spike grenades. He attached one to his own belt, and tossed the spare to Grant, the sharpshooter.

"Done!" Wu's cheerful exclamation and extended hand broke Anthers' attention. He took Wu's forearm without a word, and keyed Heracles the mission's Pelican pilot, "This is Fire Team Disney. El zee is clear, come on down."

A gruff, unaccented voice echoed back, "Aye aye, be there soon." The COM link cut off.

Almost instantly, a sharp "buzzing" filled the air. Taking point, Anthers shouldered his battle rifle, and clicked the safety off. He was about to order a fall back, but the arrival some twenty Drones interrupted him. Firing into the mass of green carapace, he saw two or three fall. Unfortunately, a pair grabbed Lawrence by the shoulders and tore away his shotgun. However, before anyone could help him, he grabbed something off of his belt and impaled it into one of the Drone's head.

The insect screamed, clawing madly at the Spike Grenade impaled in its head. Then it detonated.

Lawrence fell to the ground, as bits of shrapnel and Drone rained onto him. Grant had discarded the Long Rifle in favor of a Magnum M6C, which he precisely shot with into the horde. Wu had taken cover behind a burned-out truck, and was taking potshots with his SMG.

As the last Drone fell, the Fire Team warily fell back just in time to see the Pelican descending. It hovered a few feet off the ground, and then the pilot's voice rang out, "Here you go boys, good luck and Godspeed." He then dropped off the Warthog, a massive LRV with dark green armor. "Oh, and here's another present, straight from Misriah." A large steel crate rolled out of the Pelican's cargo bay. Then he was off.

Anthers sprinted to the crate and threw it open. Inside were four MA5C Assault Rifles, multiple Frag Grenades, and an aluminum, oblong case with "SPNKr" spray-painted along the side. Lawrence took the case and two grenades, then walked over to the 'Hog. Anthers attached an MA5C to his back and also took two grenades. Grant did likewise.

Wu had been standing near the 'Hog, when he shouted, "Four guys, three seats. Who's sta-" he was cut off as his head exploded from a particle beam laser.

Lawrence roared, "Jackals!" as he dove into the 'Hog's passenger seat, cradling the case along his knees. Anthers took the driver's spot and Grant the turret. Anthers keyed the activation code, and then gunned the accelerator. The 'Hog roared down the alley, jiggling over bits of Drone and Brute. It then took a hard right – just as another beam screamed over Anthers' head.

Two more followed, one striking the side of the 'Hog, carbonizing it, when Grant suddenly opened up with the turret. It seemed unusually loud.

Grant shifted the massive gun to the left, and several Jackals screamed in agonizing answer. They soon fell silent.

* * *

The Warthog rumbled forward, when a bizarre "whooshing" filled the air. Heralded by this, a trio of Banshees appeared from over a demolished wall of instacrete. They opened fire with their primary plasma cannons, and one round narrowly missed the 'Hog's side panel, leaving a lengthy scorch mark.

Grant returned fire with the turret, and by luck or skill a few bullets managed to pierce a Banshee's fuselage. The flyer erupted in a brilliant show of flame, shrapnel, and plasma. The remaining pair of Banshees broke formation; one turning for a strafing run while the other began priming its secondary weapon – the fuel rod cannon.

Grant continued firing bursts into the strafing Banshee, but the flyer was too agile for the stationary gun. Superheated plasma continued raining over their heads, when Lawrence opened the case and shouldered its contents. It was a fully assembled and loaded SPNKr surface-to-air missile launcher; shoulder-mounted, HE-round compatible, titanium-A reinforced. He turned to face the strafing flyer and thumbed the trigger.

A massive round exploded from the mouth of the launcher. The Banshee attempted to barrel roll out of the rockets trajectory, but it was to no avail. The tracking mechanism simply followed its course and arched up to meet it – where it then detonated.

The Banshee vanished in a cloud of smoke – for a split second. Then it was engulfed in a purple-orange hellstorm, shards of its armor flying off into random directions, melting in midair.

The remaining aircraft trailed the 'Hog so that Lawrence couldn't get off a clean shot. It fired a fuel rod, the neon globule soaring sluggishly to meet them. Fortunately, the aim was slightly off, and it harmlessly turned the orange clay road to shimmering glass – that promptly shattered due to the sheer kinetic force the superheated round carried.

Grant pivoted the LAG, and fired a prolonged stream of lead into the Banshee's general direction. It wasn't enough, however, and the powerful gun simply chipped away at its armor. Lawrence still couldn't shift enough to get a clear shot. Suddenly, Anthers shouted over the COM, "'nade the bitch!"

Understanding, Grant unclipped the last remaining Spike Grenade from his belt. Taking careful aim, he primed it. Holding onto the gun with his right hand, he hurled the grenade the twenty meters between the 'Hog and the Banshee.

The grenade faintly beeped once, then twice…and detonated directly in front of the Banshee's luminous cockpit. Spikes and other shrapnel tore into the Banshee's chitinious armor, shredding the violet sheen. It descended, burning, into the remains of an instacrete wall.

Grant collapsed into the bed of the 'Hog. He keyed the COM and addressed Anthers, "Sir, if this mission's just started, we'd better get one hell of a shore leave." The soldiers laughed quietly to themselves.

* * *

Thanks for reading, please review.  
Cheers,  
-mike 


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome to the second chapter, sorry for the wait. I've decided to further this story one more chapter after this one, just to let you guys know.

* * *

The sun was setting, dyeing the sky a myriad cascade of beautiful hues - oranges, salmons, reds, lightish reds. Unfortunately, it was setting over the ruins of a metropolis. Thousands of empty, burned-out vehicles dotted the streets - which in some spots the very asphalt had been torn up and broken, exposing the hard-packed red clay beneath.

Every building that had stood over ten stories tall had been leveled. In some places, entire city blocks had been razed - carbonized from Covenant heavy guns and atmospheric barrages.

The scarred landscape stood out painfully from what the city had been before, not even a day before - a bustling hive of activity. Now…all that was left were dust and echoes.

* * *

The 'Hog slowly pulled into an abandoned, concrete parking garage.

It had been nearly three hours since the Banshee ambush, and the remaining ODSTs had managed to effectively evade more Covenant patrols throughout the city.

That said, they hadn't run completely clear of opposition - a lone, red-armored Brute had been encountered and promptly cut down. However, not before it had gotten a round off from it's Brute Shot…which alerted the rest of its pack to the ODSTs' position.

As such, they'd had to fight their way through a roaring tangle of a dozen Brutes - explosions going off left and right, spikes and superheated plasma screaming through the evening sky. Lawrence had acquired a new scar from a bayonet, but he'd survived. He'd also made the Brute pay - slit its throat with his own blade.

Then he'd picked up the Brute's discard Spiker, ejected the ammunition tube, and pocketed it.

That accomplished, he'd climbed back into the 'Hog's passenger seat, and screamed to Anthers, "Hit it!" while Grant covered their retreat with the turret.

Several minutes later, they'd reached their designated position - the parking garage.

The Covenant forces, hastening to the Ark, had simply given the building a passing look-through and, not sensing any enemy contacts, moved on.

Anthers killed the 'Hog's engine, and leapt down from the driver's seat. He then signaled Grant to take his Rifle and quietly move to a higher floor, and also for Lawrence to gather all of the ordnance and weapons behind a pile of rubble.

Several minutes passed while Anthers and Lawrence counted their equipment and Grant maintained watch.

Suddenly, a pulsating light began flashing on Anthers' HUD - changing between amber and green - the signal that the other teams were in position.

He couldn't see them, so didn't bother nodding and instead chinned the reply signal - a short burst of static over the command frequency.

Lawrence visibly flinched, and Grant sent a red 'alarm' signal to Anthers' HUD. He sent a pair of green 'all clear' flashes to calm him, and Grant didn't reply. Good - meant he understood.

He looked Lawrence in the eye, though neither man could descry the other's face behind their visors. He then nodded, and they finished counting the array of equipment before them.

Final count:

Sixteen frag, nine plasma, and seven spike grenades. They'd divided them as equally as possible between the three of them, with Lawrence taking the surplus.

Three-hundred, forty-five Assault Rifle rounds. The crate from Misriah Armories had contained four of the new rifles, and each of the surviving men had one. Wu's was being held as a spare.

Two-hundred, thirty-four Battle Rifle rounds. Anthers had his BR55-c, a field-adjusted Battle Rifle, which fired in nine-round bursts but still used the ordinary thirty-round clips. He referred to it as the "anti-Brute."

One Sniper Rifle, and (according to Grant) three dozen rounds for it. Grant had it with him.

Eighty-seven sidearm rounds. Each of them had started with an M6G pistol, including Wu.

One-hundred seventeen spikes, and five Spikers. Both Anthers and Lawrence had taken a Spiker and extra ammunition, though Grant had declined in favor of a second M6G - Wu's.

Two Brute Plasma Rifles. They were stored in the 'Hog's blood tray.

One Brute Shot and a dozen grenades for it. Lawrence had shouted, "dibs" as soon as he'd picked it up.

Nearly twenty plasma pistols with varying charges. They were being stored in the 'Hog as secondary weapons.

Seven rockets for Lawrence's aptly-named rocket launcher. He'd started with an even dozen.

Each of the ODSTs had a pair of eighteen-inch combat knives on him - one strapped to his left chest and another in his boot. Anthers had another surprise - a twenty-six inch assault machete, his choice of personal weapon upon promotion to the rank of Corporal.

This left them with the following - eight-hundred fourteen rounds of ammunition, thirty-eight individual firearms, six combat knives, and Anthers' machete.

* * *

So…yeah. Here they were, in this bleak, fiery cityscape, armed to the teeth. Humanity's last effort to vanquish the hellish hordes awaiting them.

And what would it accomplish?

The fall of a Prophet.

* * *

Thanks for reading the second chapter…sorry that it's so short, the concluding chapter will be extremely action-packed and as drawn-out as possible. Trust me.

Cheers, and please, please, please review,

-mike


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